All 4 Zoey
by Lurking Grue
Summary: Zoey can't decide. And really, why should she have to? Warning: language and sexual themes. Collaboration with Mongoose Bite.


Zoey didn't even know how long they'd been holed up in the safehouse for. A few days? A week? It seemed like _forever_, and she was starting to go a bit stir crazy. There had always been a measure of predictability to their push out of the city. Wade through infected. Nearly die. Find a safehouse. Recover while whatever mob that had chased them into the safehouse dispersed. Rinse, repeat. Best if followed by Zombie Apocalypse Brand conditioner.

Only they were stuck on the dispersing part. The mob hadn't dispersed. It wasn't clawing at the door, but it wasn't wandering off, either. Venturing out into a thick horde like the one outside was overall a terrible idea. With no idea where the nearest safehouse was, they'd just end up having to retreat back the way they'd come to recover. Pointless. A waste of resources and energy.

And so they'd waited. And _waited_.

They all got along well. Better than she'd gotten along with her friends and family before, really, but the prolonged stay was wearing on all of their nerves. They were in each others pockets, stressed about the lingering zombies, not to mention their slowly dwindling supply of food.

Eventually, something would have to give.

Zoey was tired of cards. Her guns were spotless inside and out. Most of their conversation had been reduced to cranky noises and sulky silence. She couldn't take much more of being locked in a motel room with three men she hopelessly attracted to.

At first she'd chastised herself for thinking of _any _of them the way she had. A zombie apocalypse was hardly the time to start making things complicated. But why did it have to be? Didn't seem fair that she had to _choose_. Society had pretty much collapsed at this point. There weren't any social stigmas or anything like that holding her back.

Yeah, right. None of them would _ever_ go for that.

She looked up when Louis stepped out of the shower and quickly down again, letting her hair obscure her eyes before she continued to watch him. Though he sported the same dour expression they all did, that didn't mean she couldn't still admire him. Even scowling he was handsome, his body hard and lean from their exertion and poor diet, and when he did smile... she knew it lit up his face like a neon sign.

There was water beaded on his skin and he sat on the very edge of the only bed in the room, a twin with a hard and unforgiving mattress. Louis ran a hand over his face but he didn't sigh. There had been a lot of sighing at first, and then Bill had warned that the next person who sighed was getting their lungs ripped out, and that had been the end of it.

"Dibs," she said, standing up and hurrying inside the still-steamy bathroom. Technically it was Francis's turn, but she was tired of routine and if she had to look at one more hard body covered in water she'd lose her fucking mind. Whoever was after her could fucking cope with a cold shower. She'd _had it_.

Louis raised his eyebrows a little at the sudden excitement. Well. Excitement for _this_ particular stretch of hell, anyway. It was bad enough they were crammed in a room together with dwindling supplies and no forthcoming prospects – there was a shower, and every day for the past week, Zoey was _naked_ in that room.

He hadn't thought about it much at first, but Jesus _Christ_, it was hard to not become hyper aware of every little goddamn thing when they were stuck on top of each other like this. They all used the same damned soap (thank god the water was still working) but she managed to smell flowery while the rest of them didn't. Her hair looked almost black when it was wet, and she'd leave it sticking to her forehead and her face while it dried. It took all his self control not to reach out and fix it for her. Sometimes he found himself holding her breath until she finally did it herself.

It wasn't cool, thinking of her like that. She worked pretty damned hard to share out her time evenly and to make herself as neutral as possible. Louis was pretty sure she stayed up at night and thought of new ways to be a bad ass, too.

Besides, if it wasn't Bill's glares that kept him from trying anything, it was the fact that Francis might beat the living shit out of him with his own dismembered arms. Despite how torturous this was, it was better this way. Once they were back out there, things would go back to normal.

God, he hoped so. He was relatively icked out having to take a shower and jack off in the same place that at least one other guy was. Bill was easier to cast off as a neutral party, but sometimes his protective streak seemed to border on possessive instead of fatherly. Or he was reading too much into it.

Before he could stop himself, he sighed, breaking the four day moratorium. The shower twisted on again.

Big mistake. Francis had been sitting in the corner with a murderous gleam in his eye for quite some time now. Most of the time he spent staring out the window, as if willing the infected to go way, or spontaneously explode under the sheer venom of his gaze. But Louis's sigh had brought his attention back into the impossibly claustrophobic motel room.

Without even thinking about it, Francis picked up one of his boots and threw it quite hard at the back of Louis's head. "No sighin'!" he snarled.

"Hey! Ow! What the fuck, man!?" Louis protested, rubbing the back of his now-throbbing skull.

"Francis!" Bill looked up from the only book in the room, which he'd been reading about eight hours a day; the Gideon Bible. He obviously wasn't enjoying it, given the expression on his face, but it was presumably preferable to remaining in the here and now.

"At least I ain't rippin' his lungs out," Francis retorted, bristling to do battle with someone, anyone.

"Asshole," the younger man snapped, no longer game to turn his back to them. Francis seemed to be taking being cooped up the hardest, which he supposed made a certain amount of sense given his nature. Still. He didn't need to get _violent_. It was bad enough they were stuck in here without tearing each other to shreds.

He pressed his lips into a thin line and gingerly touched where he'd been struck again, certain there was a welt rising up there. Great! Maybe he should have whipped it a little harder and just straight up knocked him out and they could wake him up when the horde had finally dispersed.

Inside the bathroom, Zoey was oblivious to the tension, her focus turned inward. She was leaning against the shower stall with her eyes closed, attempting not to spend over an hour seeking release, but having a difficult time actually _getting_ there. It had never been a problem for her before, per say, but the close proximity to the subjects of her fantasies required some extra effort on her part, some rationalizing that if she just went and _got_ what she wanted, it would probably start a riot.

Zoey bit her lip against a whimper unsuccessfully and sat in the shower stall, running both hands through her sodden hair. This was ridiculous. There was absolutely no way she could keep this up anymore, and apparently, she couldn't even engineer her own release. What was she going to do?

Back outside, Louis tilted his head slightly when he heard a noise. Maybe a few days ago he would've glanced at the others, to see if they'd heard it, but he knew better now. He got up to retrieve Francis' boot instead, with the sole purpose of accidentally-on-purpose listening through the door a moment. If she was going to start making noises in the shower... maybe Bill could start preaching sermons from that bible. They'd need it.

Francis was obviously disappointed when Louis didn't react with more than swearing. He narrowed his eyes suspiciously when Louis got up to retrieve his boot; he certainly wouldn't have started picking up after someone who'd just thrown things at him. Moving surprisingly quietly, Francis got to his feet and padded over to Louis - he certainly hadn't forgotten that Zoey was in the shower, and he was impatiently awaiting his turn so he could consider the idea more thoroughly.

"What the hell do you think you're doin'?" he growled in Louis's ear.

Louis' jaw ticked slightly when the biker invaded his personal space. In a fair fight, Francis would easily wipe the floor with him, but hell if Louis wouldn't give it a fair fucking go. One hand tightened around the boot, making the leather creak as he contemplated smashing the big asshole over the head with it. See how _he_ liked it.

Bill shut his book with a snap. As far as he was concerned, they both had their ears to the door, and if they didn't stop he'd tear them off. If it had been safe he'd have suggested Zoey take showers in another room; it brought out the worst in all three of them otherwise.

"Get the hell away from that door!"

"Piss off, old man. I can stand wherever the hell I want. Louis started it!"

"I ain't started shit!" Louis protested, "You're the one throwin' your stanky ass boots at people, _Francis!_"

Zoey could definitely hear the the argument and she frowned. They'd been snappy up until this point, but now it seemed to be teetering on the edge of something that could potentially scar their group dynamic. It was frustrating to be cooped up like this with no means of escape or distraction, and the testosterone was practically oozing through the door. Maybe Francis and Louis beating the shit out of each other would put things back to relative normal?

No. There was no way she was going to let that happen, damn it. Enough was enough.

She twisted off the shower and wrapped a towel around her, scowling as she pulled the bathroom door open. Louis looked at her automatically, his eyebrows crawling up his forehead as she drip-dried on the trampled carpet.

"What the _hell?_" Zoey demanded of them. Even she had an undercurrent of frustration and anger in her voice, "How hard is it to sit in a room, guys? _Jesus!_"

Usually it was Louis who played peacemaker, but it was starting to become obvious that she was going to have to take matters into her own hands.

"Uh," was Louis' response. She was wearing a towel.

"Zoey," Bill began quietly and carefully, "It might be an idea if you put some goddamn clothes on!" He finished on a note that was practically angry. He was ordering her. Things were bad enough without her prancing around in a towel, and Francis was practically drooling. He wasn't that old, goddammit, and these sorts of things were not what he needed to distract him.

"Yeah, and get out of the bathroom, there's a queue, you know." Way to be subtle, Francis, but the biker wasn't looking away from Zoey and didn't notice Bill's glare. She was still dripping water.

Jaw angled up in defiance, Zoey looked Bill square in the eye and said, "No."

Louis might have gasped if he wasn't so distracted by her. She was mad or... or something. He'd never seen her with an expression quite like that before. If she grabbed her guns and took them all out, he didn't think he'd be too surprised.

"It's pretty clear what the problem is here, and frankly, I'm sick and tired of dealing with it," she said, her voice strained as she fought not to shout, "So I've had enough, all right? Francis, on your back."

"Well, hey-!" Louis started to protest. What the hell was going on, here? Was he having a nightmare?

"Shut up and take your clothes off," Zoey snapped at him, as impatient as she was absent in the command. She was still holding her towel on through all of this, still dripping water freely on the floor

Louis didn't known who she was ordering to do that, exactly, goggling at her instead. Uh... whu... where...? Huh? Was she just going to... just going to screw Francis in front of them!? That was messed up! Not cool!

"Zoey, hang on a minute." Francis had gone from angry to honestly concerned. He held up a hand, "Zoey, calm down, we weren't- none of this is your fault, okay?" He glanced at Bill, hoping for backup. The last thing he wanted to do was make her feel guilty or responsible. She couldn't help being young and hot, although the towel thing was _completely_ her fault.

"Kid-," Bill started, and had no real idea how to continue. This wasn't something he'd foreseen happening in any circumstances.

She made a curt gesture with her free hand and hissed, effectively shushing them, and she pointed at the three of them a moment later in warning.

"Everyone _shut up_," she advanced on Francis and planted her free hand on his chest, attempting to shove him into the position she'd demanded of him, "I've had enough pretending like I don't want to get screwed silly by all three of you, all right? It's the end of the world and we're all adults, and we're stuck in this tiny shithole of a room, and if you don't get on your fucking back and get naked, Francis, I will _fucking end you_."

Once she had the biker in a more submissive position, she was pretty sure she could get the other two to fall in line. God, this was exhilarating. Maybe a little over the top, but she'd been keeping a lid on this since well before they'd been stuck in this stupid motel.

"All three of us!?" Francis shot a horrified look at the other two. "Hell no! This ain't-" he shook his head, "just pick one. Jesus. I ain't gonna- I'll accept it, okay?"

Bill just shook his head, "You're outta your mind if you think if you think I'm gonna be a part of this." It had certainly distracted them from their current predicament, but how many cans of worms had she just torn the lids off?

Her expression was near murderous as they continued to balk at the idea, but Bill's statement sobered her slightly. Okay. Maybe she was being too bossy. It was a little out of character for her, given, but god she'd been going _insane_. Really, she ought to be flattered that in the face of her demands for a foursome, they were still being sweet gentlemen. Mostly, right now, it was annoying, but she at least acknowledged the thought was there.

Zoey took a deep, steadying breath and closed her eyes a moment, making a vague smoothing gesture with one hand.

"Okay," she said when she opened her eyes again, a small smile on her lips this go around, "Sorry about the... yeah. It's been a long week for everybody. I know. Believe me. But I can't... I can't just choose _one_ of you. That's like asking me to pick my favorite vital organ. You all mean so much to me, and I hate how we're fighting and getting all wound up when we can just... you know. _Share_."

Though she'd been pressing insistently, angrily, on the biker's chest, now she trailed her fingers down gently, tilting her head.

"Is that so bad?" she wondered. Zoey regarded all three of them in turn, wide-eyed and imploring.

Louis had been a bit fearful that she'd actually honest-to-god lost her mind before, but this... well, it _seemed_ sane. She was just as wound up as the three of them, too. Hell, at least she was being constructive about it instead of throwing boots at people. He flicked a look at Francis, and over at Bill, and shrugged. Not how he'd really planned for this go down, exactly, but hell, who was going to judge?

"Nah," the engineer smiled, tentatively reaching his hand out and running his finger tips over a slight shoulder, "Not bad at all."

She turned her head in mild surprise when he touched her, a slow grin oozing onto her face a moment later. Zoey caught his hand and pressed it against her face, closing her eyes, savoring the warmth. He still had relatively soft hands from an easy life, a few weeks of zombie apocalypse not enough to cover them in rough callouses. A shivery sigh slipped past her lips.

"Oi," Francis said, with a lot less aggression than he'd intended. It was hard to focus on being annoyed at Louis when Zoey was making those faces. "Are you really going along with this?" he asked Louis incredulously. He did realise this was going to be a sausage-fest, right? If he thought he was getting away with her all to himself just because he figured the other two would chicken out-

"All right," he angled his chin up and snaked an arm around Zoey, "if you can, then so can I. But if I catch you lookin' at my ass I'll fuckin' brain you."

"Man, you ain't gotta worry about that," Louis assured him with a dubious expression.

Bill was looking at all three of them like they'd started talking flawless Cantonese. He sighed and gave Zoey a defeated look, "You- okay, I'll be outside or somethin'. I'll look for supplies in the other rooms." He needed more cigarettes. A lot more.

Francis was torn. On one hand, he had absolutely no problems with Bill sitting this one out. On the other hand, this might be an all-or-nothing deal, in which case he was cockblocking all of them.

Her grin, which had begun to rival a super-nova in brilliance, crumbled when Bill spoke and she shook her head. She pulled away from Francis slightly and reached a hand out, beckoning to the veteran. Zoey favored him with a slightly more sober smile, eyes warm and adoring.

"No one left behind," Zoey chided him gently. Those were the rules.

"You really think you know what you're doin'?" Bill asked, not angrily, but concerned. He nodded at the other two, "Look at 'em. You're pushin us pretty far outta our comfort zones, and the only reason any of 'em are going along with it is cause they're nuts about you." He shook his head, "There ain't walking away from somethin' like that, not without causing a lot of hurt." He had to get across that this wasn't just a build-up of frustration brought on by a week in a motel room, not for three grown men who weren't about to identify as anything other than straight, and who definitely weren't in the habit of sharing.

"I would never walk away," Zoey said, "Not from any of you. There isn't... there isn't anything else _but_ you guys now. Not for me. Not ever. This," she gestured a bit vaguely around the room, "This is something unique. I could never, ever ruin something like this. It's... if we never see another living human being again, I'll be fine with it. I trust you. All three of you. You're more than family to me, you're-"

She cut herself off, feeling a bit embarrassed by her gushyness and flushing slightly, "I love all of you so much."

Louis wasn't going to speak for the other two, and he smiled dizzily in response. _Gosh_.

"Love you, too," he said, dreamy.

Bill raised his eyebrows at Francis who just grinned, "Can't say it's not worth a try." Although how they'd gone from group sex to group hugs in under two minutes the biker wasn't sure. He rested his head against her's briefly, "Anythin' for you, crazy lady." He was still eyeing off Louis with a vaguely competitive air, even so.

Bill smiled ruefully, wondering how he'd been outmaneuvered so easily. "Oh, to hell with it then." He took her hand.

When she next woke up, she could scarcely believe the state she was in, sandwiched between Louis and Francis. She had half-draped herself on the biker, and Louis had, in his sleep, draped his hand on the curve of her backside. Both of them were still asleep and she cautiously attempted to disentangle herself without disturbing either of them. Well, without disturbing Louis, anyway. Francis could sleep through anything.

She was a bit sticky and sore, but overall, her smile was serene and she stretched luxuriously before she shuffled to the end of the bed, intent on showering. Things were different now, of course, and it was... going to take some _work_. There was a lot less arguing about who was touching whom in her fantasies, but they'd managed to get things worked out. For that go. Looking over her shoulder at Francis and Louis, she couldn't help but shake her head a little.

Zoey realized, with a smirk, that she'd traded one careful list of rules for another. Instead of excluding everyone, she had to include them. She was confident that she was up to the task.

Her only real concern right now as she came a bit more to her senses was where Bill had wound up. Poor thing. Cuddling Francis or Louis couldn't have been high on his list of priorities. He'd certainly earned some cuddles from her if he'd wound up sleeping on the floor after last night, in any case. He'd helped her wrangle, after all.


End file.
